


Clouded Rage

by JujuBlitz



Category: Lost Dimension (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Death, Gen, Slight gore?, Status Ailments, implied suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 00:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6217147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JujuBlitz/pseuds/JujuBlitz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not even justice can keep George from losing himself in the heat of battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clouded Rage

**Author's Note:**

> I'd first like to thank the three friends of mine who read over this before I posted it for the world to see. Now, on to the (very short) fic!

Everything happened so fast. One moment he charged headfirst to assist his allies, the next he was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by enemies that decided it would be better to target him. Overwhelmed by the fog that increasingly muddled his mind. Overwhelmed until he was running purely on adrenaline.

An animalistic cry sounded across the battlefield, instilling a sense of dread to allies nearby. They knew. They knew what happened, even if they didn't bear witness. They'd seen it happen before to another, some even felt firsthand the desperation that comes from pushing themselves too far.

He sliced through the nearest foe (...foe?) before him. A roar of anger (...fear?) from his left caught his attention. The memories of battles long past channeled through as he pressed forward with intent. Intent to strike down the next foe (...foe?). Another roar (...shriek?) echoed through his ears as the blade struck true.

Moments later the fog in his head began to lift. All at once his senses came back, it was too much to take in at once. There was more shouting, frantic? Something happened, but what? Red coloured the ground before him, a feeling of dread began to pool in his stomach, why? Suddenly he was pushed aside, the liquid on his face slightly chilling him from the wind of the movement, sweat? He reached up to touch the wetness.

Red. Blood. The same as the splatters all over his arm, his katana... katana?!

Realization crashed into him like an avalanche. The enemies don't bleed. That means...!

He looks to the concentration of blood on the ground, to the body. Bile rises to his throat as he takes in the sight. His comrade lay there in two parts. He did that. Him in his rage. How could he be so careless? So careless to allow himself to be pushed to the edge? It's one thing to be forced to kill your comrades, but for it to happen like this... with his own hands.

There was only one option for redemption. An answer within his grasp. An answer he could read through the katana's memories of the previous owner.

He grasps tightly at the weapon's handle, aiming it towards himself. His hands shake nervously. Sweat mingles with the blood on his face. He has to do it. It's the just thing to do.


End file.
